


Eyes Closed

by witch_lit



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4658994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witch_lit/pseuds/witch_lit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alec was 10, he decided he was done with the whole soulmate thing. Too bad it's not done with him.</p><p>Russian translation here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/4796880</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes Closed

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I don't believe romantic love is the be-all end-all, and I tried to get this across in here, but soulmates aren't necessarily romantic in this world though a lot of pressure is put on soulmates to be romantic with each other. (The mains are romantic, but some side-pairings aren't)  
> This fic is pretty much what happens when i listen to too much Pierce the Veil and follow littlearcherbooty on tumblr.
> 
> OKAY so sweet Russian translation by a_lassombra here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/4796880

            Alec is alone the first time it happens.

            He knows he should be expecting it, because he can tell blues and purples and pinks apart now. He can feel an ache in him, like there’s something not quite right about his loneliness.

            He’s studying a book Magnus bought him about accepting the death of a loved one ( _Max_ , the name saturates his brain. His little brother, _Max_ ), a mug of chamomile in his grip. Suddenly, the yellow-tinted liquid is overturned and the books are soaking in the sweet scent and water. The words of the book are distorting in front of him.

            Alec looks at his hand, and he panics. It’s faded, not quite opaque, as if a shadow is pulling him out of the universe, atom by atom. He’s not ready.

            But he doesn’t tell anyone. He doesn’t want them to know. He doesn’t want to have to face what it means.

***

            Before Alec had realized the repercussions of being gay, he had really liked the idea of soul bonding. One person whom he could count on to try and help. One person whom would depend on him, and someone whom he could depend on. He had always thought that having a soulmate would complete him, would help him make strong children like the Clave wanted. He could return his family name to honor.

            But when a visiting boy, Desmond Highwright, just a little older than him, had leaned in close to explain demonic history, and all Alec could do was stare at his lips… The whole thing became a little poisoned. He knew then that his soulmate would be a boy, and that he would let down the Clave. He would let down his parents, Isabelle, and the little baby growing inside his mother.

            So, when he was ten he decided he’d never go looking for his soulmate. He never went out to meet people like Isabelle did, or like Jace (even if he wouldn’t admit it). The parties just lacked the appeal when he knew it wouldn’t matter even if he found his soulmate. They would never be together.

***

            Magnus’s apartment is full of people the fourth time it happens. It has been happening too often, when he’s showering or training by himself, but never so publicly.

            Alec is playing bouncer as a group of vampires becomes too rowdy, trying to mediate the situation before it can get out of hand. The Children of the Night have already overstayed their welcome, and Alec is trying to get them out before they truly become a problem. He doesn’t want to have to act on behalf of the Clave at one of Magnus’s parties.

            He reaches out to put his hand on the jacket of a dark haired vampire, but his hand falls right through the material. It passes through skin, through bone and muscle. He knows what it means, and tries not to panic as he extracts his hand, only to see it flicker for a moment as if it’s a shadow.

            “Oh, drama,” one of the vampires, who had been about to start a fight says; grin slipping onto his wormy face.

The dark haired vampire smirks, gliding closer to him. “Looks like the shadowhunter has a soulmate and it isn’t Magnus Bane.”

            “No,” Alec says, eyes wide. “No. Please don’t tell him.”

            “That’s a lot of favors to owe,” another vampire speaks out.

            Alec takes a shaky breath. “Then so be it.”

            He would rather owe a hundred favors to rowdy vampires than face the truth of his soul-bond.

            Another vampire calls out. “Nah, he’ll be dead in the month. Not worth it.”

            Some of the others laugh, and Alec can’t help it. He can’t face Magnus with this looming over him. He runs out of the party and disappears into Brooklyn.

***

            Alec knows Magnus isn’t his soulmate. His vision didn’t slide from greys to vibrant blues and pinks when he met the warlock, and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need a soulmate. He likes spending time with Magnus, he likes having sex with Magnus. He likes loving Magnus.

            He knows Magnus has a soulmate, that he’s found her. She’s a warlock too, and they’ve been friends for centuries, neither of them ever wanting more than that out of their bond. It just gives them a person they can always go back to, that they can rant about life to. Magnus loves Catarina as a friend and Alec tries not to be jealous. Alec’s going to be bonded to someone else, so he has no right. He will not love Magnus forever, though he will always be a let down to the Clave.

***

            The seventh time Alec notices himself fading out of existence is when he’s sparring with Jace. Clary and Isabelle are practicing throwing knives on the other side of the training room, but they’re too far away to overhear casual conversation.

            He and Jace have been at it a while. His muscles are burning, and he feels alive instead of muted like the unrecognized soulbond has been making him feel. It’s the sound of knives clunking into their wooden targets across the room, the heavy breathing of his _parabatai_ as he gets ready to tackle Alec.  He loves training with Jace, the rush of adrenaline it always brings, and now that he’s not in love with the boy it’s so much better.

            He gets lost in these thoughts for a moment too long, and when Jace charges at him he’s too lost in thought move. Only, where his chest should meet Jace’s hard flesh, he melts into the shade of a person being ripped from the universe. Jace runs right through him.

            Jace stumbles through his _parabatai_ , falling to the ground as his momentum is thrown off by Alec’s lack of physical presence.

            Alec turns to him, his eyes wide. He’s blown, and Jace, who’s looking up at Alec with wide eyes has put the pieces together; Alec has met his soulmate but they’ve been separated. Jace’s expression is of anger and hurt and confusion.

            “Alec,” he says, his voice nearly a yell. “You’re dying.”

            Alec fights the urge to run, to hide himself. He can see Izzy and Clary looking at them in his peripheral vision, the thumping of their target practice halting.

Alec bites his lip. “I know.”

            “And it’s… It’s not Magnus.” Jace says slowly.

            Alec shakes his head. “It never was.”

            “Why aren’t you with him, then? Your soulmate? You’ll both die if you’re not together,” Jace asks, his face full of concern.

            Alec knows this. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it, Jace.”

            “Alec,” he says, his expression filled with no laughter or mocking. “This is serious.”

            “So am I,” Alec says, his jaw clenched. “I would rather die with him than spend a minute in his presence.”

            Dipping into his drama quota in for the next six months, he leaves the institute abruptly. He runs all the way to Central Park, trying to forget the look on Jace’s face when he realized Alec was going to die. He avoids thinking about the concern in his voice, the way Isabelle called after him as he left the training room.

            He’s just some kid taking a run on Manhattan Island. He’s no one special, and he’ll be dead before the month is out, anyway. It’s not unheard of, even in modern America. He doesn’t really consider that he’ll be kidnapped, but nonetheless, he’s pulled from the streets on New York City and to somewhere entirely unfamiliar.

***

            Alec was shocked when his vision turned from grays, blacks and whites into a kaleidoscope of color, a sure sign that he’d met his soulmate, all over a boy he’d known when he was younger. He had thought that, no matter the age, the colors would appear the first time one met their soulmate. Maybe he had thought wrong.

            He probably would have been suspicious if he hadn’t spent the majority of Hodge’s lectures on soul bonds drooling on his desk instead of listening. He hadn’t bothered to pay attention since he’d sworn off the idea.

            While he felt a bit as if something were wrong when they connected, because he’d met this boy before, every nerve in his body was telling him that this boy was probably going to be with him for the rest of his life. He ignored it, and pretended not to feel crushed when the teen met his colorful gaze and looked away.

            He wondered if the teen could feel it too. He wondered if he was wrong, if the damn thing was defective.

            Then he found out that the boy had killed his brother and nearly done the same to his sister. The boy had unleashed demons into Alicante and killed Alec’s former tutor and second father figure, Hodge.  Alec had never cried so hard in his life once the battle was over, for what he’d lost, and for what he’d never have. He cried because he didn’t want to be bonded to a monster. He had never before hoped _so much_ to be defective.

            He’d just wanted to love Magnus, and he had confessed that in front of the entire Clave. He wanted to be with someone because he loved them, not because it would physically kill him to be apart from them. So he decided it would be a secret, one he would take to the grave. No one needed to know that his soulmate was Jonathan Morgenstern, a teenage murderer.

            Valentine, Jonathan’s father, was dead, and the Clave thought Jonathan was, too. Alec wasn’t going to say otherwise, though he could feel the life flowing in Jonathan. It would lead to too many questions. It would be better if only Alec knew the truth.

            It was much less complicated if he continued loving Magnus.

***

            Alec fights against his captor, kicking out and connecting with something hard. Then he is pushed against the floor, his chest against tile while someone holds his hands together behind his back, their heat seeping through his sweat-soaked training shirt.

            “Careful, now,” a familiar and taunting voice says from just behind his ear. “Wouldn’t want to kill your soulmate, and subsequently, yourself.”

            “You killed my brother,” Alec hisses, his teeth grinding. “I would love to kill you.”

            “Oh?” Jonathan purrs. “It’s a good thing I like them feisty, then. A bit of a struggle. Good for the whole family!” He laughs. “Didn’t you pay attention to your soul-bond syllabus? You’d better stop struggling. Until we have a stable relationship if I die, you die too. ”

            “And unless we’re close to each other, the universe will start tearing us out of this existence. I’m not a moron.” Alec sneers, though his face is pressed into the cold tile floor, where Jonathan can’t see it.

            “And here I thought you were ignoring me,” Jonathan says. “When you were really just trying to kill us both.”

            Alec wants to argue that he couldn’t have found Jonathan, a dead man, even if he’d tried, but he doesn’t get the opportunity. His soulmate (however disgusted he is by that fact) is pressing something hard against his lower back, and a kiss to the back of the neck.

            “Don’t,” Alec yells, his breath picking up. He doesn’t want to be touched like this by Jonathan, even if he’s attractive and his soulmate. He still has Magnus, and he hates the thought of Jonathan on top of him.

            “Promise you won’t leave? Try to kill me, or yourself?” Jonathan asks.

            Alec feels his insides swirl with hate and disgust for the man on top of him. He grits out the promise anyway, his jaw brushing the tiled floor.

            “Good,” Jonathan says, seeming pleased. He climbs off Alec’s back, standing next to him. He’s got a blade in his hand, and he’s looking at Alec impatiently. Expectant.

            Alec closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before rolling onto his back and looking up at the white ceiling. He can see wood cabinets and counters and a stove and Sebastian, all towering above him. Resigning himself to his fate, Alec rolls into a sitting position and stands up, his entire body tense.

            “Where am I?” He asks. The windows give him a view of a city that is not anything like New York. It looks cleaner, less packed. More organized. The characters scrawled across the bill boards he can see aren’t roman.

            Jonathan shrugs, cleaning out the undersides of his nails with his blade, eyes still trained on Alec. “It moves us around, so I couldn’t say the city. Other than that, you’re in my house. Well. It was my dad’s before your _parabatai_ killed him.” He sounds bitter, but not as bitter as Alec still is over Max.

            “What are you planning on doing with me?” Alec asks, eyes burning with the anger he feels toward Jonathan for kidnapping him, for killing his brother. For making his sister feel so guilty she refused to talk to him.

            Jonathan leans close to him, despite the look in his eyes. “Honestly? I want to fuck you until I’m the only person you’ll ever want. But I can wait, for now.”

            The shivers up Alec’s spine are from both disgust and a slight arousal. He doesn’t want to have sex with anyone but Magnus, and definitely not someone as awful as Jonathan. As much as he likes the thought of someone bending him over and taking what they want, he doesn’t want it from filth like Jonathan.

            “That’s not going to happen,” Alec snaps. Much to his annoyance, Jonathan just shrugs, moving on.

            “This is the kitchen,” Jonathan explains. “I don’t suppose you’re any better at cooking than your sister?”

            “Don’t talk about Isabelle like that,” Alec demands, his entire mood further darkening. “She’s got lots of talents.”

            Jonathan 's lips tilt up into a patronizing smile. “From what I hear, cooking isn’t one of them. You any better?”

            Alec shakes his head; he wants nothing more than to spit on Jonathan for his mere existence, not talk about _cooking_. There’s a reason Taki’s is so popular at the New York Institute.

           “That’s what I thought. I’ll teach you some recipes.”

            “You know how to cook?” Alec asks, not hiding his surprise.

            Jonathan laughs, and it doesn’t sound malicious, if slightly unhinged. “Does your precious Jace not know how to cook? Did father not take the time to teach his precious ‘son’ how to prepare food?” Jonathan shoves his blade into a holster on his belt. “I guess he always did spend more time over there, cooking and such.”

            There’s a lot of bitterness in his voice, but Alec doesn’t care. If it wouldn’t kill Alec in the process, he’d be planning ways to destroy Jonathan from the as they speak.

            Alec is silent, so Jonathan leads him through the house. The coloring is soft, but faded, as if the house has been in use, though there are few personal objects. It’s not too small a house, with several rooms and two floors, but it’s so empty it feels daunting. It’s definitely a different place than the Institute.

            “You’ll be staying in here with me,” Jonathan explains as they reach a large bedroom on the second story of the house, its walls a faded cinnamon color. “We’ll need as much contact as possible, and even if you won’t let me fuck you, sleeping in the same bed will keep it so we’re not both tugged out of the fabric of reality.”

            Alec wants to argue, but he doesn’t know enough about the soul bond to really make a point. Sleeping in close proximity really might be crucial to their survival. He really should have paid attention to those lectures. If he had, he wouldn’t be stuck in a situation that lent him only uncertainty, frustration and anger. “What about my siblings? Magnus?”

            Jonathan shrugs. “They’ll just have to deal.”

            “That’s it? They’re just going to think I’m missing? Possibly dead?” Alec asks, voice taught with irritation. He wants to bash Jonathan’s face in.

            Jonathan shrugs. “Jace will know you’re alive. Aren’t you _Parabatai?_ That should be enough.”

            Alec bites his anger back into a frown. He’ll have to plot and plan to see them again, and without a fight, he resigns himself to it. He’ll get back to them as soon as he can.

            “I also got you something,” Jonathan says, and it sounds flippant. Like he's practiced. As if he’s afraid to admit he might be nervous about something. It takes all of Alec’s restraint to believe it’s fake, to keep himself from ripping into the insecurity he’s picking up. It would be so easy. It’s probably fake, a trap. Jonathan spent days lying to Alec, to the Penhallow family. Why would he be hesitant now?

            Jonathan walks over to a deep brown set of chested drawers in the corner, pulling open one of the shelves to reveal a folded mix of older and newer sweaters in various shades of black. “You wore a lot of them in Alicante, so I just thought they might make you feel more at ease.”

            Jonathan is trying to be nice to him. There are a lot of sweaters in the drawer that Alec would love to wear, that look comfortable and lived in. And though he hates this man, hates what he’s done to Alec’s life, he knows when to nod his thanks.

            “These look comfortable, Jonathan” Alec says softly, trying not to flinch at the name. He pulls out one of the more faded sweatshirts running his thumb over the soft fabric. He feels a little more at ease with wool and cotton between his fingers, like a child listening to a lullaby. It feels warm and familiar.

            “In return for these sweaters,” Jonathan says, and any sincerity drains out of Alec at the prospect of a bargain. “You will stop calling me Jonathan. I’m Sebastian now. Jonathan is the name my father used to make me a monster.”

            Alec pauses. “Okay. Sebastian.” Maybe Sebastian is different from Jonathan. They seem different to him, his voice sharp as he runs over the syllables in _Jonathan_. Sebastian is easier, reminds him less of Jace and Valentine, though it is a stronger reminder of their time together in Alicante. But whichever one he is, he has Lightwood blood on his hands.

            Jona--Sebastian smiles, and it’s a bit less twisted than it has been every other time he’s looked at Alec. “Let me show you the library. I imagine you’ll be spending a lot of time there.”

***

            Alec spends a lot of his first day looking for ways out of the house. The windows are all bolted, ( _my father was afraid, when he finally caught my mother, she’d try to escape him,_ Jonathan explained when he caught Alec looking), and the doors are locked with a keypad ( _mundane technology has its uses_ , Sebastian had smirked, knowing Alec would never find a way past it). Sebastian seems to be able to appear into any part of the house through a special key, though Alec doesn’t have any weapons and probably wouldn’t be able to steal it.

            He won’t be leaving any time soon. Not to mention the fact that he’s not even in New York anymore, and doesn’t know where the Institutes of different cities are located. He would be lost if he tried to escape the house and find one, especially is they happened to be in a city too small to have a proper Insititute.

            So he spends the day trying not to panic, and sitting in the library pretending to read. He hasn’t even turned ten pages, his mind transfixed on getting back to his siblings. They must be wondering where he is by now.

            The way he sees it, he has a couple of options. He can try to sneak out, then find the local Institute and catch a portal back to New York. He might be able to strong-arm Sebastian into taking him back, but he doubts it. Sebastian is more powerful than him, and is probably extremely prepared to keep Alec in the house.

            Or, maybe, he could start out small. Write a note to his siblings, to Magnus, and ask if he can send them. Maybe Sebastian would let him send letters, telling them not to worry and that he’ll be fine. Sebastian will let him lie to his siblings, surely. It’s not like they can track a moving house, right?

***

            He brings it up that night while Sebastian is showing him how to make spaghetti sauce by hand, having him dice mushrooms and tomatoes. Sebastian believes in not putting things off, in seizing the moment, much to Alec’s chagrin. He didn’t really _want_ to learn how to cook.

            “Can I send them letters, at least?” Alec asks while Sebastian pours the ingredients into a pot on the stove.

            “Who?” Sebastian asks, though the glint in his eyes says he knows. He just wants to be able to refuse Alec once he’s made the full request, Alec assumes. He can’t forget that the last time he saw that glint Max died. His stomach clenches.

            “My siblings. Magnus,” Alec says, fists clenched.

            Sebastian stalks towards him, never breaking eye contact. It’s daunting, like he’s trying to intimidate Alec, but this man killed Alec’s brother and hurt his sister and that rage allows Alec to defiantly maintain eye-contact.

            Sebastian crowds Alec back against the counter, putting his arms on either side of Alec’s waist. There’s a glint in his eyes that Alec doesn’t like, but Alec does not like Sebastian.

            The blond-haired teen leans closer, and whispers, “When you’ve earned it.”

            Then Sebastian’s mouth is on his, and Alec is being kissed with nothing holding Sebastian back. It isn’t a nice kiss. Sebastian is taking, holding the back of Alec’s neck so he can’t move away. His tongue is as violent as it’s owner, and Alec knows his mouth is going to be uncomfortably sore for the next day or two. It’s almost as if Sebastian is trying to drown him, because his cheek is pressed over Alec’s nose so he can’t breathe.

            Alec shoves his hands at Sebastian’s shoulders, pushing him off. He gulps in air, glaring at the teen pressed to his front. “You don’t get to do that,” Alec says, voice ragged from the lack of oxygen.

            “But you look so pretty with swollen lips,” Sebastian says, a hand snaking up to press his fingers against Alec’s lips.

            Alec pushes his hands forward again, and this time Sebastian moves back, looking slightly hurt. Alec snarls, “No. You don’t get to do that. I still hate you. And if you don’t start learning the meaning of consent, you’re not going to be alive much longer.”

            Sebastian takes a step back, a look of surprise in his eyes. He breaks eye contact with Alec, turning back to the stove. “Okay,” he says. Then, “I think the fusilli is almost done.”

            Alec wonders if maybe there’s hope for Sebastian yet.

 

***

 

            Alec _hates_ Sebastian. He hates the way he’s leaning back in his seat, a grin on his face as he watches two downworlders try to kill each other. He hates listening to Sebastian spew comments that make his blood boil; that makes him itch for a bow to shoot the bastard with.

            Through no choice of Alec’s, they’ve ended up in a box at a pit match between a vampire and a werewolf somewhere in the South of France. Sebastian had called it a date, though Alec was gripping his glass to refrain from killing his soulmate. If he called another vampire a leech, Alec was going to kill him.

            The man next to Alec snorts, and his light eyes glance at Alec. “Your friend is very excited over this affair,” he says with a very thick accent

            “ _Il n’est pas un ami_ , (he is not a friend)” Alec says compulsively. “I don’t know why he’s trying to rile them up. All it’s doing is making me want to kill him.”

            The man shrugs, his dark red jacket shifting on his shoulders as feathers fall from his sleeves. A warlock, then. “Doesn’t matter. He’s only using dirty names for dirty players.”

            Alec gives the man a small smile. He hasn’t spoken to anyone in days (besides Sebastian, and he just really wants to murder him now), and it’s nice to be companionable with someone, if only for a moment.

            “I’m Marceau,” the warlock says, nodding at Alec.

            “Alec,” Alec says with a smile.

            “Short for Alexandre? That’s a French name, you know, though your accent gives you away. You’re an American.” Marceau grins.

            “It’s actually Greek,” Alec says, taking a sip of his wine. “But you caught me. I’m from New York.”

            “You’re a long way from home,” Marceau says, though Alec can hardly hear him over the cheering of the crowd below their balcony seating and Sebastian next to him. The werewolf has somehow gotten the vampire on the ground, and they’re tussling there.

            “Yes,” Alec says, then lowers his voice. “And not much by choice. Do you think you’d be able help me out?”

            Concern reflects in Marceau’s green eyes, and he nods. “A fire message, perhaps, if you’d give me their names.”

            Alec opens his mouth to respond, but Sebastian’s hand clenches on his thigh.

            “Alexander,” Sebastian says in English, “I thought we agreed you weren’t contacting them until you’d earned it.”

            Alec turns to Sebastian, his body shaking with anger. “Why can’t you just leave me alone for, like, five minutes?”

            “You know why,” Sebastian says, eyes shining. “Now say goodbye to your little warlock. We’re leaving.”

            Sebastian stands, and pulls Alec by the wrist, lurching him out of his seat. He pulls a struggling Alec away from Marceau and toward the door.

            “No,” Alec says, hatred in his voice. He throws his wineglass against Sebastian’s back, where it splatters against his white shirt, leaving a stain of red. It shatters against the ground. “You don’t own me.”

            Sebastian turns around and snarls at him, “Don’t make me force you,” and pulls him out of the arena and into the travelling house. Shoving Alec to the ground, Sebastian paces the entryway.

            “Why are you so resistant?” He asks, voice hard with anger. “I haven’t done anything to you, and I try and treat you to a good time, and you try and go behind my back and get in touch with your siblings. What did I do, Alec?”

            “You’re hardly innocent and you know it,” Alec yells, climbing to his feet. “You killed my brother. You took a mallet and took it to the back of his head, and he _died._ You hurt my sister, scattered our family to pieces, not to mention you _kidnapped me._ ”

            “I was on orders!” Sebastian screams. “I didn’t have any choice! Valentine raised me to be what I am, and so what if I’m exceptionally good at it?”

            “So you’ll never be with me if you continue to act like a monster! I will never be with someone as awful as you.” Alec says, steel in his response. “I will not be in a relationship with someone who treats downworlders so horribly, and I refuse to wake up every day wondering what you’re going to do next. I _won’t do it_.”

            “Alec,” Sebastian says, his breath evening. There’s something that almost looks like regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to kill him. It wasn’t supposed to… I _am_ sorry for the hurt that I’ve caused you. I want you to be safe with me, to feel protected. I’m sorry that I hurt you so much.”

            There’s silence for a few moments.

            “I’m not going to accept your apology,” Alec finally says, stepping away from Sebastian. He walks to the end of the entryway.

            “What can I do?” Sebastian’s voice, soft, stops him. “What can I do to make it so you don’t hate me quite so much?”

            “Let me send letters to my siblings,” Alec says.

            “Anything but that,” Sebastian says. “I can’t grant you that until I can trust you.”

            “Fine,” Alec says, irate. Thinking over the time he spent at the match, talking to Marceau, his mind is made up. He needs companionship.“Get me a cat.”

***

            Xenia is a tabby with delicate paws who loves trying to sit on whatever Alec’s looking at, being petted, and using Sebastian as a scratching post. Alec kind of wants to give the cat a medal for her ferocity when she isn’t getting orange fur stuck between the pages of his books.

            As it is, he’s been slowly working his way through Sebastian’s library, tucked under a blanket with Xenia curled in his lap. The cat is hiding from the lamplight by positioning herself so Alec’s book shrouds her in a shadow, and she starts mewling whenever Alec stops running his hand over her head. It’s not particularly conductive to reading, but it’s keeping Alec in a good mood. He likes feeling needed, and since he was abducted three weeks ago, all he’s really been feeling is rage, frustration, and confusion. Xenia is a relaxing break from all of that.

            Sitting up and stretching, Alec moves his book so the light hits her. She gives him a betrayed look and a halfhearted hiss before scampering off his lap and out the kitchen door.

            As she leaves, Sebastian walks in, a plate of food in each hand. He makes his way over to the couch, handing Alec a dish of tortellini with broccoli and a fork. He wordlessly sits in the chair adjacent to Alec’s feet.

            “Thanks,” Alec says, a lot less on edge than he had been a week and a half ago. Before he asked for Xenia, he had felt like he was completely at Sebastian’s mercy, helpless. But with the acquisition of the cat, Alec’s realized he can ask Sebastian for things. If Alec asks after a specific book, it’ll be in the library the next day. If he says he wants to learn how to make a soup instead of _another_ pasta dish, Sebastian will do his best to teach him.

            “Don’t worry about it,” Sebastian says, popping a speared tortellini in his mouth. “You sure do waste a lot of time with books.”

            “Hey,” Alec frowns. “I like books. Besides, it can’t possibly be healthy to spend every waking moment with you.”

            “Wouldn’t want to catch ‘monster’?” Sebastian says, and his eyes gleam like a fight that’s waiting to happen.

            Alec eats a piece of broccoli, ignoring Sebastian’s comment. He doesn’t really want to fight tonight, not after feeling so good from petting Xenia for an hour. “The food’s good.”

            “Thanks,” Sebastian says. “Even with my demon blood I can still make a decent meal.”

            Alec snorts. “I don’t think I’m the one with the hatred against demon blood here. I’m currently dating a warlock, if you haven’t forgotten.”

            “How could I forget,” Sebastian says, his nose crinkling.

            “It’s not my fault we’re soulmates,” Alec says.

            “But we’re _soulmates._ This shouldn’t be so hard.” Sebastian says, dejectedly spearing a piece of pasta.

            “Solid relationships aren’t easily built, Sebastian,” Alec reminds him. “Besides, this _is_ getting easier. I don’t want to stab you every time you walk in the door anymore.”

            Alec is trying to lighten the mood, keep away from anything that’ll disturb what he’s got going on, but Sebastian only sinks further into his seat. Alec sighs.

            “You want to talk,” Alec says, and it feels utterly bizarre. Usually, Magnus or Izzy are the ones demanding he open up to them.

            “I want you to think better of me,” Sebastian corrects.

            “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Alec says, feeling weird about the whole comforting-his-brother’s-murderer thing. Not as weird as he should.

            “But it was burned in one,” Sebastian says, stabbing his last piece of pasta.

            “We’re not destroying each other yet,” Alec shrugs. Looking at his empty plate, he says, “Now come on, we’re going to bed.”

            That night, there isn’t a two-foot gap between them as they sleep. Alec wakes up the next morning with a cat on his head and his face pressed into Sebastian’s collarbone.

***

            Alec actually kind of enjoys learning to cook. If nothing else, he’ll know how to provide for his siblings when he gets back to the Institute. The days of take out for every meal will be over. If he ever gets to leave, that is. And it’s not like he could take Sebastian with him. What with him being legally dead and all.

            Alec laughs when Xenia launches herself at Sebastian’s calf as he adds the cauliflower the stew, her jaw snapping at his jeans as he attempts to shake her off. She lets go, hiding behind the kitchen island and waiting to strike again.

            “Why did I let you get a cat,” Sebastian mutters, but Alec can’t hear any actual malice in his voice. “I should just kill the thing.”

            “You wouldn’t,” Alec says, and it’s more a statement than an exclamation.

            “You’re right,” Sebastian says, turning to face Alec. “You’d be heartbroken.”

            Alec chuckles. “Absolutely heartbroken. I wouldn’t recover.”

            “We couldn’t have that,” Sebastian says, and though his smile is small, it’s _real_. It makes Alec’s stomach flutter, and warmth spreads through his body like honey spilling from a jar.

            “I…” Alec says, shaking his head. He forgot what he was going to say. Instead, he takes a step toward Sebastian and places his hands on either side of his face. He pauses, scanning Sebastian’s confused features, and pulls their lips together.

            This kiss is different than the last. For one thing, kissing is a lot nicer when one can actually breathe, and it’s even more fantastic when it’s one’s choice.

            Though Alec can tell that Sebastian is initially shocked, he quickly gets into it, nipping at Alec’s lower lip. Alec opens his mouth and nearly moans as Sebastian’s tongue brushes against his, as his hand reaches around and pulls Alec closer by grabbing his ass.

            Sebastian’s body is hard and hot against his, and Alec moves his hands from Sebastian’s face to feel the muscled planes of his back, the curve of his spine and the swell where his butt begins. Alec pulls Sebastian closer to him, the _want want want_ pounding through his body like a needy rhythm.

            Sebastian has left his mouth, instead licking and nipping and sucking at the pulse point on his neck. He’s pushed Alec back against the counter, and the dig of the counter into his ass is just turning Alec on more. Alec realizes how much he _wants_ this, and it almost makes him freeze.

            Instead, he reaches between the press of their bodies and into Sebastian’s jean’s, grabbing at his half-hard member. Sebastian moans, and as Alec’s just starting to work his hand up Sebastian’s shaft, Xenia attacks.

            She hits Sebastian on the leg, pulling at the fabric and startling him. At Sebastian’s flinch, Alec’s hand is pulled forward, and he looses his balance. He falls forward onto Sebastian, knocking the both of them to the floor.

            “How do they even make Shadowhunters as clumsy as you,” Sebastian says from beneath Alec as Xenia scampers off. “That damn cat.”

            Alec can’t help but laugh at their misfortune.

            He’s still laughing when Sebastian flips them over and ruts against his thigh. “If you keep laughing, I’m going to kill that damned thing.”

            Alec’s cheeks are still puffed from his laughter when he thrusts his hips up to rub against Sebastian. “Like I can’t multitask,” Alec says as he pulls open his own pants and kisses Sebastian hard.

            He grabs Sebastian and pulls their lower halves together, and they leave each other’s mouths only for breath as they rock back and forth, grinding to their own beat. They swallow each other’s moans as they thrust, release coming closer and closer as each second ticks by.

            Finally, Alec looses it, back arching as his orgasm spits between them, ruining their shirts. Alec doesn’t care about the mess as he tries to keep pace, to ride it outso he can make this as enjoyable to Sebastian as it is to him.

            Sebastian pushes him down on the floor and holds him there as thrusts up once, twice, then he’s moaning above Alec and mixing their cum. He eventually stops his lethargic thrusts on shaky legs as he fall onto his back next to Alec.

            “Angel,” he says after a minute has passed. “I can’t wait to do _that_ again.”

            Alec laughs, caught in the afterglow, then the world starts coming back to him. Guilt runs through him, making him feel disgusting. Like the come on his shirt is the harbinger of sin, he tries to wipe it off.

            “Sebastian,” Alec says, panicked. “I have a boyfriend.”

            Sebastian tenses, face sour, and he mutters, “I can never do anything right,” and Alec is left feeling guilty on both sides.

***

            Sebastian’s been avoiding him. He’ll sometimes drop off food, but even when they’re in the same bed, Sebastian doesn’t speak. He pushes Alec away when he tries to reach out a hand to him.  Alec doesn’t know what to do, and no matter how much he tells Xenia, she doesn’t offer any solutions. She just keeps biting Sebastian, leaving Alec more irate than he’s been since before they got her.

            Alec approaches Sebastian after a five days of this, letters in hand. He’s thought long and hard about what to say, and his first letter is to Magnus. His second is to Isabelle and Jace, letting them know he’s still alive.

            They’re in bed, Alec carefully on the left side of the bed, not touching the other teen. “Sebastian?” Alec asks to silence. “I wrote a letter to Magnus, and one to my siblings. I was wondering if I could send them tomorrow.”

            There’s a long sigh from the other side of the bed. “Are you giving them information so you can run away?” Sebastian asks tiredly.

            “No,” Alec admits. He just wants to fix things.

            “Then I’ll send them tomorrow.”

            Alec tries to thank him, but there’s nothing but silence from the other side of the bed. Alec wonders if Sebastian would care if sent off plans so he could run away. It doesn’t really feel like it.

***

            The next day, after putting the mail in the post, they return to the fight club in France. Marceau isn’t in their box, and there are a lot less people at the fights than last time. It must be a weekday, Alec idly muses. He doesn’t actually have a calendar.

            He does have access to alcohol, but Sebastian’s abandoned him with some excuse and he doesn’t feel like getting drunk alone. He’s feeling marginally better about this entire soulmate deal now that he’s gotten in contact with his loved ones, but he still feels rotten because Sebastian hardly looks at him. He supposes he would be pretty mad if someone had sex with him and then more or less reject him.

            Sighing, Alec looks around the room. He’s near the top of the place, about ten feet up from the floor, giving him a bird’s eye view of the boxing ring surrounded by a cement floor and dim light. There are about thirty people on the floor, shifting around as they converse. The pace is languid, but the referee is taking his place, and the crowd grows restless as the fighters come to the ring.

            One of them, to Alec’s surprise, is Sebastian.

            He’s not wearing a shirt, and Alec can pick out the scar on his back from when Jace stabbed him. There are old runes there, in places that make Alec think Valentine drew them there. There are plenty of _iratze_ , and enough scars to match. Alec has seen Jace’s back enough times be familiar with them.

            A whistle howls through the air and in the space that Sebastian had occupied a moment ago is taken by a vampire’s fist. The match has started, and Alec stares, transfixed.

            The vampire is fast, obviously well trained. He follows just a step behind Sebastian, occasionally surging forward and striking the shadowhunter as they dance around the ring. The vampire stops following Sebastian and takes a step back, and they circle each other, eyes narrowed.

            It’s Sebastian that makes the first hit, teeth shown as he grins, fist landing on the Vampire’s shoulder. The blow was meant for his neck, but the vampire is fast. They’re blow for blow for a while, and there’s blood on the vampire’s lips and more from a scratch on Sebastian’s chest when the referee calls break.

            The contestants go back to their corners, breathing heavily, and they’re each handed opaque bottles to drink from. Alec suspects the vampire has been given blood where Sebastian has water. Marceau did mention they play dirty, and a power-up in the middle of a match sounds like the kind of thing that might slide in this ring.

            Alec’s eyes are fixed on the match as Sebastian and the vampire get back in position. The referee blows his whistle, and they’re circling each other again. This time, though, the vampire is landing hits.

            Sebastian’s form isn’t what it was in the previous part of the match—it’s like nothing Alec’s ever seen from him. His steps are sloppy, and it’s almost like he’s letting the punches land. Something is wrong, and Sebastian slips as if his knee has buckled beneath him.

            Sebastian goes down, the vampire on top of him. Punch after punch lands on Sebastian’s face, his chest, and he’s not fighting back. Something is very wrong.

            Alec, alarmed by the turn of events, grabs the jacket from the back of Sebastian’s chair and jumps over the partition of the viewing box. He drops to the cement floor of the room, the thud unheard over the roar of the crowd.

            Alec is thankful the crowd is so thin as he pushes through the mass of bodies. He catapults into the ring, running to the fighters and pushing the vampire off of Sebastian. It feels like his feet hardly touch the ground.

            Sebastian’s breath is uneven when Alec kneels next to him, his face covered in blood. Alec drops Sebastian’s jacket to cup his head in both palms, forcing him to look at Alec. His eyes are foggy, and he doesn’t seem to be responding to Alec’s presence.

            “Somebody—bring me his water bottle,” Alec demands.

            No one has moved, and Alec notices for the first time the quiet of the crowd. He lifts his head, noticing the confused looks of the patrons, the referee nowhere in sight. The vampire is also long gone.

            Angrily, Alec riffles through Sebastian’s jacket pockets, procuring a Steele. Tracing a quick _Iratze_ onto Sebastian’s skin, Alec continues to look until he finds it, a breath escaping him as he grabs it. The key.

            Using the key is a strange experience. He lifts it in the air, and suddenly they’re in the kitchen of the ever-moving house, between the drawers of the cupboards they first grappled around.

            Abandoning Sebastian’s jacket on the tiled floor, Alec pulls Sebastian onto his back. Thanks to his shadowhunter training, he can carry Sebastian up the stairs and into their bed. He checks the _Iratze_ —it has burned silver, taking some of Sebastian’s bruises with it.

           Alec applies another _Iratze_ and then sits down heavily next to his soulmate. The key—his ticket to escape—is heavy in his hand.

***

          When Sebastian finally wakes up, Alec has moved a dining room chair into their bedroom. He’s not in it, though, and all Sebastian can remember is the fight. The bad taste of the water, how he’d thought it was just a French thing. He remembers pain, and that’s about it.

          He sits up in the bed, his healing torso aching in protest. Alec must have brought him back to the house, which means—which means he has the key. Which means Sebastian’s probably alone, and Alec has left to his _boyfriend_ and his family.

          Angrily, Sebastian throws off the blanket. Why did Alec bring him back to the house? To gloat? Alec could have easily let the vampire kill him. But he hadn’t—was Alec mocking him? Bringing him back to the place they’d lived together just to abandon him with his memories?

         Sebastian flies down the stairs, only to stop in surprise when he finds Alec at the dining room table with a book open.

         “You—You didn’t leave,” Sebastian says, startling Alec, if the flailing is any indication.

         “N-no,” Alec says. “I don’t know if you should be out of bed yet. I’m still trying to figure out what they gave you.” Alec shuts his book, looking up at Sebastian. “I’m glad you’re alright, though.”

            Sebastian strides toward Alec, reaching out to cup his face. Pressing their foreheads together, Sebastian takes a deep breath. Alec didn’t leave. He’s here, and Sebastian can smell him. Can feel him.

            Moving closer, Sebastian closes his eyes and presses their lips together.

            There’s no tongue. In fact, there’s nothing scandalous about the kiss. He’s just so glad to see Alec, whom he’d assumed would have left him as soon as the opportunity was presented.

            Breaking away from Alec’s lips, Sebastian opens his eyes. Alec’s blues are filled with affection, and Sebastian’s breath nearly stops. This is what he’s wanted, this warm feeling is all he’s ever desired since he learned he might have a soulmate. That is might make him less of a monster.

            Alec initiates the hug, he’s pretty sure. He’s wrapped in strong arms and an old sweatshirt, the innocent feeling of another person foreign but wanted. He’s never been hugged like this—not by his mother, who thought he was a monster, and certainly not by his father, who thought he was a weapon. He doesn’t want it to end, and though it feels endless Alec eventually pulls away.

            “Come on,” Alec says, his chair squeaking as he pushes it back to stand up. He takes Sebastian’s hand, interlocking their fingers as he pulls Sebastian to the living room.

            He sits down on the love seat, bringing Sebastian with him. He sits as close as he can, leaning into Sebastian, and Sebastian finds himself leaning back. Their sides are toughing, and their fingers are still interlaced. Maybe it’s the aftereffects of being drugged and beaten (because there’s no way Sebastian could have lost so profoundly otherwise), but he has never felt so fond of anyone in his entire life. Alec _hadn’t left._

            A wave of bitterness breaks Sebastian’s elation. “I thought you had a boyfriend?” He spits.

            Alec shakes his head. “I broke up with him in that letter you finally let me send. And… while you were out, I visited the Institute, to borrow a book and talk to my siblings. He was there. We’re done.”

            Sebastian is silent, as if processing this information.

            “The book turned out to be useless. I still couldn’t figured out what they put in your water, but you seem fine now, so I suppose it’s not that important…” Alec rambles.

            “You broke up with the Warlock?” Sebastian asks.          

            “Magnus? Yeah.” Alec pauses. “We may have a lot to talk about and work through, but I’m really starting to like you. Even if the arrangement we currently have isn’t exactly healthy.”

            Sebastian’s brow furrows. “It’s not?”

            “You can’t just _kidnap people,_ Sebastian. And leave them stranded from the people they care about.” Alec says, spine curling. “My siblings were ready to raise Hell to get me back.”

            “How else was I supposed to get you to stay with me?” Sebastian asks. “You didn’t like me at all—I killed your brother, remember.”

            Alec flinches at the mention of Max. “I—I know. But now that we both want to pursue this, you have to let me see other people. My family. I can’t just hang out with you all the time.”

            “Why not?” Sebastian growls.

            “Sebastian,” Alec says, making eye contact. “It’s not that I don’t like you. But even though we’re soulmates, we can’t be each other’s everything. We need to have other things to keep us sane. We still need some space to work this out.”

            “I don’t see why,” Sebastian huffs.

            “You will when we’re trying to kill each other,” Alec smiles, kissing Sebastian’s cheek. “Until then, let’s try and work on that whole ‘functioning relationship’ thing.”


End file.
